


Tumbleweed

by Adapes



Category: FMA - Fandom, Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/F, Fort Briggs, Gals being pals, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, lgbqt, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 06:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adapes/pseuds/Adapes
Summary: In the wake of the war with the homunculi, Izumi’s husband Sig has passed away. She’s been traveling, trying to stay busy and productive. Avoiding people because she can’t deal with sympathy and pity. Wandering aimlessly, Izumi ends up in North City where she realizes there’s one person who won’t treat her like a poor, fragile woman.





	1. Chapter 1

Izumi leaned her head against the window. As the train car rattled along the tracks, she found comfort in the shaking movements. It was one of the few comforts she’d been allowing herself these days. Since Sig’s passing. Sig. She let herself hold the name in her mind, heavy with everything it meant. And then she let it go.

For the last year or so - how long had it been now anyway? - Izumi had been traveling. Just taking the train, or whatever ride she could get, wherever they’d take her. She wasn’t a simple housewife anymore. When Izumi had lost the title of ‘Wife’ with Sig’s death, she had thought about giving up the house too. Burning it down like the Elric brothers had burned their home to the ground when they left Resembool. But Izumi Curtis wouldn’t have anyone saying that she was running away. Leaving home is a lot harder when you’ve actually left something behind. So Izumi stood on the front step and locked the door behind her when her when she left. She imagined sometimes that maybe someone had realized the house was abandoned and since moved in. Other days she pictured it standing as she left it, with maybe just a few more cobwebs than when it had been inhabited. She thought about these things like an outsider - considering them curiously, but without any real passion.  


There wasn’t a point in being sad anymore. It’s not what Sig would have wanted. And, after what they’d been through with their child - and then the Elrics, and the homunculi, and absolutely everything with Amestris - well, letting herself fall down that dark hole again was impossible for so many reasons. Still, Izumi felt detached. The Elrics had known her well enough to not try and thrust pity upon her but she’d still seen it in their faces and glances between the brothers when they thought she wasn’t looking. Everyone else was more of the same, or worse. Izumi had never been a people person anyway. To be around people without Sig - stable, sturdy, stoic Sig - was torture.

So, the train.

Izumi slid in and out of towns. Using alchemy to help towns to build. To fix things. To solve problems. The way she always had. These days though, when people asked who she was, she shrugged and answered, “Just a drifter.” No longer a housewife, but not quite sure what she was instead. Izumi wasn’t too concerned about figuring that out. The drifting thing was working just fine.  


There were only so many trains to take though. Izumi had considered making the journey across the desert to Xing. A change would be nice. Change, she knew, would let her move forward more than anything else. But when she thought about Xing, she thought about Mei. Mei. Izumi couldn’t think about her without smiling. But there was a sadness too. She and Sig used to talk about Mei. About how they would have liked a child like that. Raw with talent and absolutely fearless. So Izumi locked that door in her mind and left the idea of Xing behind as well.

The great wheels of the train groaned and the locomotive rattled one last time for this particular journey. In turning away from Xing, Izumi had settled on the opposite of the desert instead.  


“Last stop, North City!” the conductor’s voice rang clearly up and down the train compartments. Izumi rose and took a last, cursory look at the nearly empty seats around her. The few other passengers were still collecting their things as she strode off the train.

Outside, Izumi pulled her coat tight around her. She wasn’t used to wearing heavy outerwear - she’d always liked having her arms free and unrestrained. The coat felt restricting. Still, the slight tightness in her shoulders and her back gave Izumi something to push against. She grinned. Having something to fight with was always a surefire way to feel better. Even if it was a stupid coat.

Standing on the train platform, Izumi watched while people buffeted to and fro on their way past. Soldiers from Fort Briggs were in town loading up on supplies. Civilians were going about their business. Whatever they were in North City for, everyone moved with a purpose. They had to - you couldn’t stand by aimlessly for long in this cold. The grin settled more definitely onto Izumi’s face. Time to find something to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Izumi hadn’t put much thought into what she’d do in North City, past thinking that the cold might be a nice change. Figuring things out as she went had been working just fine and the north had a lot of options. Drachma, further north, would be entirely new. Maybe dangerous, but less so than it was during Bradley’s time. And anyway, what was a little danger if not a little fun? Izumi cracked her knuckles as she rubbed her hands together. 

Fort Briggs was here too, and General Armstrong. One of the few people Izumi found herself missing more often than not. The woman was pure steel. The soldiers though - Fort Briggs had suffered heavy losses in the fight for central, and even though they’d had more time to heal than she had, Izumi wasn’t sure she could deal with the weight of their losses yet. Not when she was still only just keeping her own loss at bay. So, Drachma then. She’d stay in North City for a few days, fortify her cold weather supplies, and then move on. 

These thoughts were in mind when Izumi turned to move off the train platform and saw the general herself. Armstrong looked to be organizing a group of soldiers unpacking supplies from the train. Izumi watched her for a minute, until the general turned, and the two women made eye contact from across the platform. Despite herself, Izumi smiled. Fine then. She’d allow herself the indulgence of some time with an old friend while she stayed in town. 

The small bag of things she owned held firmly in one hand, Izumi strode across the platform, all the while Armstrong stood and watched her approach. The soldiers carried on unpacking, oblivious to everything but their work. They only stopped to look for a moment when Izumi planted herself in front of the general. The couple of soldiers who recognized her from central nodded in greeting and then returned to unloading the train. Words could be exchanged later - it was cold, there was work to be done, and the general ran a tight ship.

The general however. Izumi turned back to her, and thought she caught a small reflection of her own smile in Armstrong’s eyes. Armstrong had more discipline than to be overly emotive in front of subordinates. Not that she was an overly emotive person to begin with. Izumi shrugged, happy to smile enough for both of them. Happy to feel like smiling at all. She savored the joy, while smugly greeting her friend. Izumi knew she’d caught her off guard.

“General,” Izumi said, by way of hellos. 

Armstrong nodded, and didn’t quite smile - but her face did relax. “Izumi. I didn’t know you were coming up to Briggs.”

“I’m not. Or rather, I wasn’t.”

The general raised an eyebrow. “Is there something else going on in North City?”

“Not North City, no. I fancied a trip to Drachma. I’ll just be in town here long enough to stock up on supplies.” Izumi shrugged. She didn’t feel like explaining her whim of a trip in front of Armstrong’s soldiers. Or at all, really. She knew the general would be critical of this behavior, perceiving as reckless. The general’s only major fault was taking certain things too seriously. Another reason to avoid people. Still, her joy at seeing Armstrong outweighed the annoyance of potentially being forced to explain herself. “What say you Olivier, shall we grab a meal and catch up?”

As Izumi hoped, Armstrong twitched at the casual use of her first name. She replied without comment on it though. “We have to bring these back up to the fort.” The general gestured at the crates with the soldiers behind her. “If you’re not opposed to staying at Briggs instead of in the city though, you can come up with us and we can...catch up, as you say, after.”

Izumi shifted her bag to the other hand. She really would rather avoid the soldiers. A free bed for a few nights wouldn’t be the worst though. “What time are you all heading up?”

“Should be in two hours...if this lot can keep focused.” Armstrong raised her voice at the last bit and turned a fiery glare onto the soldiers, a couple of whom had stopped to watch the two women curiously. A particularly young looking soldier flushed red in the face and jumped back into moving supplies with more vigor than the task strictly required.

Izumi laughed, delighted. “New recruits, eh? Well, I’m going to use the time to start stocking up then. Where should I meet you, back here?”

The general nodded. “We’ll be pulling our vehicles up to load everything up at the platform. I’m sure you’ll see us.” 

“Alright then. See you in a bit, Olivier.” Izumi hitched her bag up, tightened her coat again, and threw a casual wave over her shoulder as she turned off the train platform.

Armstrong watched her go. Even after Izumi had disappeared into the streets, the general’s gaze lingered. She had missed the alchemist after finding a kindred spirit in her, back in central. The other woman’s friendship and regard had been one of the few good things to come out of the goddamn mess between Amestris and the homunculi. They’d stayed in touch for awhile, and then Izumi had all but disappeared after her husband died. Some sort of accident, Armstrong didn’t know the details. She had tried to check up on Izumi - not something the general was inclined to do for many people - but the woman had been hard to keep track of.

She and Izumi were the same in many regards though. She knew the only reason she hadn’t disappeared for awhile herself after the battle and the death of Captain Buccaneer, and so many others, was because of her obligation to Fort Briggs and its remaining men. With no child, no husband, no job, Izumi had been free to disappear into the wind. And that’s what she’d done. Armstrong didn’t blame her, but still - she worried.

Muttering a quiet “Hmph,” under her breath, the general turned back to her soldiers. At least she hadn’t had to twist the woman’s arm to get her to agree to stay at Briggs. They’d catch up indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, are you gonna shove over or what?” Izumi barked at the soldiers in the backseat of the general’s car. “These bags aren’t going to fit themselves!” Her trip to stock up had been fortuitous. In fact, buoyed by the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to pay for lodging for at least a couple of days, Izumi had gone a bit ham with the shopping. Food and a warmer jacket, yes. But also new boots, more cooking supplies, a sturdier piece of luggage. All in all, it was more indulgence than she’d allowed herself in a good while - even if most of the purchases were justifiable. She was pleased but also mildly embarrassed. She took this embarrassment out on the soldiers and had taken to shouting at them since reuniting with the Briggs men.

To their credit, the soldiers didn’t seem to take it personally. In fact, as their general was slightly less gruff than usual, the Briggs men were inclined to appreciate Izumi - shouting or not. The men in the car adjusted themselves and their supplies until two of them were nearly sitting on each other. An extremely self-satisfied Izumi loaded her things, climbed into the car, and sprawled luxuriously in the remainder of the backseat. Armstrong met her eyes silently in the rearview mirror but held Izumi’s gaze for only a moment before starting the car and beginning the drive to Fort Briggs.

As the car lumbered up the street, Izumi wondered if she had gotten herself into something by agreeing to stay with the general and her men. Not that the general’s quiet gaze in and of itself unsettled her. Silent gazes were par for the course with Armstrong. Kind of her thing even. The woman could say a hell of a lot with a silent gaze. The general’s looks were loaded and armed. No - it was the fact that Izumi couldn’t read this particular look that worried her. The general was holding something back. 

Izumi sighed and turned towards the window. Buildings flew by with decreasing frequency as they left North City behind. The sound of tires churning through the snow filled the car - the men weren’t a chatty bunch which suited both women just fine. Behind them, a line of vehicles filled with soldiers followed them up the road back to Briggs. If nothing else, Izumi thought, the scenery was new and Briggs was a big place. It would be easy enough to get away from people if she needed to.

When they reached the fort, Izumi began to think maybe she had been worried over nothing. The general’s gruff demeanor was as it always had been. She barked orders at her men, offering her own strength here and there as necessary to facilitate moving things along. Izumi joined the soldiers’ ranks and carried her stuff inside, dumping them unceremoniously inside the gates until she could figure out a better place to leave them. She the opportunity to stand and watch the men, until Armstrong passed her and pointed back outside.

“I’m sorry Izumi, did you think you were getting a free stay?” The general’s eyes gleamed. “There’s plenty left in the cars! I’m sure you can lend a hand.”

Izumi hadn’t expected a truly free ride, no, and work was more than fair and hardly surprising at Briggs. She offered Armstrong a jaunty salute and a “Yes sir!” before abandoning her things to help the soldiers. All the while unaware that the general’s gaze again lingered just a bit too long on her back.

Outside, Izumi resumed her shouting at the soldiers. An unfortunate neophyte had attempted to relieve her of her burden. “Do I look like I can’t help myself? I’ll carry my share and yours! You useless slug. Go back and get more!” Izumi raged, storming inside with her crates, dumping them, and returning to the cars for more. “Olivier, I don’t know how you manage with this lot. Throw them outside for a month! They need to build some character!” She dropped another round of supplies at the general’s bemused feet. 

“Tough as this lot is -” Armstrong paused, “and, tough as the new lot will be - no one survives outside here. Not for more than a day or two at most.” She grinned “Except maybe Al, back when he still had the armor.”

“Hmph. I did it. And I was just a stupid young thing back then.” Izumi threw her arms up dismissively.

“You?...You!” Armstrong’s jaw dropped. “It was you!”

Izumi, realizing what she’d just admitted - not having expected Armstrong to be aware of stories about a young thief at Briggs back in the day - grinned sheepishly. “I thought that was before your time.”

“You stole from Fort Briggs!” The general roared. “You can tell the men they’re relieved! You can finish carrying everything in yourself!”

The men seemed more than content to accept a break and trundled inside, patting Izumi on the shoulder as they did so. “Thanks, lady!”

Izumi fumed. “Don’t pat me like...like some dog! You’re the dogs, you military scum!” She maintained a level of rage, shouting and storming to and fro all the while unloading the remaining supplies at a quicker pace than the Briggs men had previously been managing. Armstrong watched from the gate, a smirk on her face. 

When Izumi dropped the last load inside, the men shut the gates. “Gather your things,” the general said, gesturing to her friend. “Everything else will get sorted later.” 

Izumi allowed herself one heavy exhale, before loading her arms for the last time. “This better be some good dinner you’re going to feed me, Olivier.”

Armstrong only laughed. “You could have saved yourself a whole lot of trouble, Izumi.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, couldn’t you have? All those trips and you didn’t use alchemy at all. Couldn’t you have found a quicker or easier way to move things?” The women glanced at each other, and Armstrong raised an eyebrow.

“Equivalent exchange, General. I could have moved things quicker, but the energy required would have been the same. Besides, I didn’t want to show up your soldiers too much.”

“Hmph. First time you’ve called me by my rank and it’s to be condescending. But you’re right. Briggs is lacking in alchemists these days. I know you’ll refuse, but it would help a great deal if you stayed here to help.”

“I know things are different now, but you already know my thoughts on joining the military.” Izumi looked carefully at the general.

“I run Fort Briggs. I can make the call to hire a civilian alchemist. Especially one with your qualifications.”

“A civilian alchemist that’s paid to work for the military is still a military alchemist. Sorry, I won’t. Besides, I’ve got things to do.”

“In Drachma, right.” Armstrong frowned. “What are you planning to do in Drachma anyway?”

“Who said anything about planning?”

“Izumi! They’re a volatile nation. There’s a reason I’m still running Briggs the same as I always have. You can’t just….just wander into a hostile country on a whim!” Armstrong glared at Izumi. She’d expected reckless. But not quite this reckless. “I thought you had more sense than that.”

“I’ve got plenty of sense, thank you very much.” Izumi glowered, knuckles crackling.

Armstrong scowled, hand twitching on the handle of her sword. “Sure doesn’t seem like it right now. But maybe you’re just forgetting how to think sensibly in your old age.”

At this, Izumi threw her things to the ground. “Old? Who are you calling old? Do I look OLD to you?” Her eyes glowed red and spittle flew from her mouth as she yelled and several soldiers who were passing began to scurry. 

Armstrong simply stood and laughed, hands falling to her side. “Ah well, not so old that I can’t still get under your skin.” With that, the general turned on her heel, blonde hair whipping around behind her, and disappeared down the corridor.


	4. Chapter 4

Even after Izumi stopped fuming, she continued standing in the corridor. Her first impulse had been to run after the general - to follow Armstrong to the dining hall and chide her back. Izumi hated the idea of running after anyone though. And it wasn’t as if she needed the general, or anyone else, to help her navigate the fort. She’d figured Briggs out on her own before, hadn’t she? 

This logic seemed fine until after she’d gathered her things again. She still didn’t know where they planned to put her. Ah well, she could figure out a place to store her stuff on her own too. 

In slightly less of a huff, Izumi made her own way down the hall, following the echoes of Armstrong and her men.

Armstrong meanwhile, oversaw the mess in the dining hall. She drifted around, chatting with her men and checking in. Dining hours were the one time she really let her hair down around them. It was good for morale, she’d learned. The soldiers needed to know their general was tough. And they did. But they needed to know she cared, too. And she did. She traded nods as she passed soldiers, acknowledging the greetings of “Sir,” sent her way and occasionally stopping for brief conversations. All the while she kept half an eye on the doorway, waiting for Izumi to come sulking in. The idea amused her. Armstrong knew that needling the other woman wasn’t a good way to get her friend to take things more seriously but she couldn’t help herself. The only other people who responded to Armstrong’s teasing with such outrage were the older Elric boy and that Mustang, but there was no fun - no art - in provoking children. Something about setting Izumi off however...but Izumi never came.

Armstrong found herself in a fouler and fouler mood as dinner passed and there was no sign of the other woman. “Sulking around the fort most likely, stealing supplies again.” She grumbled under her breath. Miles, dining next to her, eyed the general with alarm.

“Something wrong, sir?” The steadfast Ishvalan sat up from his plate and looked at Armstrong with only the mildest of concern. They’d worked together too long for him to be overly concerned about the general huffing and puffing. Still, he did know what sort of things huffing and puffing could lead to on a bad day. 

“What do you think, Major.” The general’s eyes flashed as she stabbed her fork into the table. “It’s been awhile since we flushed the rats out of the basement, hasn’t it?”

“Uhm. Rats, sir?” Miles quietly lowered his fork to the table.

“Yes, Major. Rats.” With that final statement, Armstrong stood, her plate half finished, and swept out of the dining hall. 

Some thirty minutes later, Major Miles found himself wrangling the available men through the lower levels of Fort Briggs. Ostensibly they were clearing vermin out of store rooms. Well, that wasn’t wrong, Miles sighed to himself. The basement areas did have plenty of vermin, rats and otherwise. But the general clearly had an ulterior motive. Miles knew Armstrong and that gleam in her eye well enough to connect the search for “rats” with the General’s friend who had mysteriously disappeared sometime before dinner. Miles wondered if “friend” was the right word. Did the general have friends? What kind of friend wanders off on a military base? The major quickly decided those lines of thinking were above his pay grade. 

The general herself helped her men sweep through the lower levels. Occasionally she’d stick her sword through a crate or sack stacked away in corner. “Well come on out, then!” The general roared with increasing fury, as their search continued fruitlessly aside from the actual rats. 

Izumi, meanwhile, chuckled to herself. Knowing what Armstrong would assume as soon as she failed to turn up for dinner, Izumi had decided that this visit to Fort Briggs required different accommodations. After a few minutes of listening to the rampage downstairs with glee, Izumi had finally made her way to the kitchens before sauntering off to the officer’s quarters. 

Izumi found herself in an irresistibly good mood for the first time in a while. She had sequestered herself in the general’s own room and was luxuriating on the bed with several plates of leftovers. For someone so rigid, Izumi had expected Armstrong’s quarters to be fairly spartan. And, at first glance, they were. The general wasn’t one to decorate lavishly. Aside from a family portrait (Izumi noted that Armstrong’s brother was conspicuously absent from the frame), there were no wall hangings or anything that said much about Armstrong’s personality. Which, Izumi reflected, was still a reflection of her personality in its own way. The most telling thing though, was the quality of the furniture. Izumi wiggled her butt happily into the bed. Here, the general had splurged. The dressers were simple, but the quality of the wood shone. The nightstand was delicately but elegantly carved. And the bed. The bed. The mattress itself was nice enough, but coupled with the high thread count sheets and down pillows Izumi found herself in comfort heaven. After ages on the road - long days on hard train seats and constant nights in low-budget beds, comfort had become a luxury. Izumi smiled. A woman could get used to this.


	5. Chapter 5

Izumi hadn’t planned to fall asleep in the general’s bed. She knew Armstrong wouldn’t give up her search easily, that the blonde’s fury could keep her going for quite a long time. That the idea of letting Izumi win would be nearly unbearable. But Izumi also knew that Armstrong wouldn’t drive her soldiers into the ground for a personal vendetta. Izumi also knew that at the end of the day, despite whatever some of the general’s men might think, Armstrong was human. 

So Izumi had set a curfew for herself, with plans to retreat to the basement or kitchen, or wherever ended up being convenient. But she hadn’t accounted for the pull of soft down pillows on a belly full of warm food. 

When Izumi awoke, the sun was smirking. No. Not the sun. The halo of yellow light swam into focus, and resolved itself into the face of general Armstrong, hair backlit by the standing lamp in the corner behind her.

“Ahh.” Izumi blinked rapidly, trying to hurry her brain to a place of clarity.

“Ahh.” Armstrong agreed. “You know, Izumi. After all that, I’m almost disappointed by how easily trapped you are.”

“Well, that was the plan of course. Get you all riled up and then deny you the sweet victory of a successful hunt. You’re very predictable these days, Olivier.” As soon as she said it, Izumi knew she’d said the wrong thing. Something shifted in the general’s face, as if her whole face had shut down. Izumi knew that Armstrong had a reputation for being stoney, but she’d never put much faith in that reputation. The woman she’d known was fiery, decisive. The opposite of stone. Fluid, if at times torrential. But now it was truly the general in front of her, towering over the bed. Something in the other woman’s stance raised the hairs on Izumi’s arm.

For the general, time slowed. So. She was becoming predictable. She felt the usual fire flaring up inside her, but instead of letting herself unleash, Olivier kept the heat inside her like a furnace. No. She wouldn’t be denied a sweet victory. Not today.

“Tell me, Izumi,” The general began, as she finally moved from her guard over the bed. “What sort of victory do you think you’ve denied me?” The other woman remained silent for once, which suited Armstrong just fine. She unbuckled her belt, with her sword and sheath still attached, setting them on the dresser as she continued. “Did you really think that catching you was going to be the fun part?” Armstrong slide off her jacket, depositing it on the back of a chair in the corner. “Did you really give so little though as to what would happen...after?” She sat in the chair, slowly pulling off her boots. All the while her eyes never left Izumi in the bed.

By this point Izumi had sat up in the bed. She watched as the general stood from her chair, and padded slowly back over to the bed, socks muffling her footsteps. Armstrong tugged at her shirt collar, loosening it. Her hair fell in disarray against her collarbone, down her back. 

Izumi looked up at the general standing above her, a growing unease in her stomach. Up close, she could see how tired Armstrong was. The general’s pale skin gave way to dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes themselves just seemed heavy with exhaustion. Briggs was a rigid place on a good day. Izumi was beginning to rethink her hasty taunts with mounting concern about what sort of punishments the general might dish out to a wayward guest who put her men through extra work after a long day for no reason. In fact, as the general closed in, Izumi began to wonder if the general was going to fight her. She’d just begun to wonder whether there might be wisdom in preparing some alchemy, when she stopped considering anything at all. The other woman was kissing her. The general was kissing her. 

Izumi fall back down in the bed as Armstrong’s weight bore down upon her. The general was slight, but solid, and the soft mattress gave beneath the two of them, cradling Izumi in place. Shock, as much as the mattress held Izumi still. As if emboldened by the lack of resistance, the general leaned more fully into the bed, ran a hand up through Izumi’s hair and closed her fist in it, holding the other woman in place all the while kissing her more firmly still. 

When Armstrong’s fingers closed, Izumi gasped. Any effort at clarity or any other form of thought had already ceased, but for the briefest of moments Izumi wondered whether her shock came from fear or pleasure. The moment passed as Armstrong’s tongue took advantage of the gasping part of her lips and slid between them.


	6. Chapter 6

Armstrong didn’t know that she was going to kiss Izumi until she did. Miles did occasionally tell her she was impulsive. But her gut had never led her astray, so she’d learned to be decisive about those impulsions. And when her brain had lashed out for the least predictable reaction she could have for Izumi’s obstinance she didn’t let herself consider any of the reasons kissing the other woman might be wrong.

In fact, after she’d begun kissing Izumi, Armstrong quickly realized several reasons it might be right. Kissing other people was not something the general tended to give a lot of thought to. It wasn’t something she had much time for. She made a mental note to reconsider that. Izumi was soft, but unyielding. Armstrong tightened her fingers even further, twisting into Izumi’s hair, holding her face firmly but gently, sliding her other hand down the other woman’s arm until their fingers intertwined. Pinned Izumi’s hand into the down cradle of the bed. And finally Izumi gave. Her fingers grasped back, her lips parted fully, and her body bucked upwards towards the general.

Armstrong smirked, her lips still against Izumi’s. As Izumi gasped, the general flicked her tongue into the other woman’s mouth, but only for the briefest fraction of a second. Then she released the grip of both hands, and pulled away. Armstrong sat up over Izumi, still effectively pinning Izumi’s lower half to the bed with her knees. But both hands floated to her side and she watched as Izumi’s body, which had just begun to rise against her own, fell back to the bed. Izumi’s face flickered through a series of emotions, processing, as a red flush rose in her cheeks. 

Abruptly, the general rolled off the bed, releasing Izumi. “I’m going to bed,” she announced and walked to the back of the room, pulling simple cotton night things out from the closet. 

Slowly, Izumi sat up. She felt she hadn’t mentally caught up to what had happened over the last few seconds. Was it only seconds? It felt like a lifetime since she had woken up with the general looming over her. She knew that Armstrong’s proclamation of sleep was a dismissal but was unwilling to leave without responding. Izumi had no response. 

Olivier’s back was to the bed. She had changed swiftly and clinically out of her work uniform. Fully clothed again in a plain but not unflattering night dress, she was in the process of sweeping her long blonde hair into a ponytail. While Izumi found it nearly unbearable to leave without the final word, words continued to elude her. She decided she’d rather leave unnoticed than face the general again and risk...risk what? Izumi wasn’t sure. Refusing to think about it any further until she had space to herself, she slipped quietly out of the room before Armstrong could turn back to the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Armstrong waited until she heard to the quiet click of the door before turning back to her bed. It had taken all of her willpower to tell Izumi she was going to bed with a straight face. As soon as she had turned away she couldn’t help but smirk. Leaving Izumi without a retort was more than she could have hoped for. Exactly what she had hoped for, the general wasn’t sure. She felt surprised at herself, but also pleased. 

Olivier felt vaguely that she ought to have feelings of confusion - she had never kissed a woman before - but she felt none. She had always said there was no man worth distracting herself over. If there was more truth to that than she had originally intended, so be it. Climbing into bed, Armstrong closed her eyes and fell into an easy sleep. Whatever came next could wait until morning.

Izumi, well across the fort and nestled into makeshift bed on a pile of supplies, did not find the arms of sleep as welcoming. She was rattled. Izumi felt like she should be angry at Armstrong but she wasn’t. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that and filed it away for later. Instead, her brain zeroed in on every other emotion. 

Confused was a good starting place. Izumi replayed the general’s face, leaning towards her and her brain superimposed Sig’s face over it. The general’s weight on her arms. Sig’s. Feelings she couldn't untangle knotted in her belly. Suddenly, Izumi felt like she was back on the train. A tumbleweed, drifting aimlessly.

Izumi lay awake with her thoughts for most of the night, though the darkness sat on her light the heaviest of blankets doing its best to lull her to sleep. When Sig first passed, she had spent many nights like this. Feeling the loss of him. His physicality and his weight. Imagining she could still smell him and his warm musk. Even while staying in the heart of a city, Sig would always smell like the woods. Like home. The less tangible things. The fact that Sig was home. They had a house, but it didn't matter. Not really. Home was where he was. That he had always accepted her, twisted, impertinent, outrageous, strong-willed as she was. That he had forgiven her, after the loss of their child. The loss of everything. That she had failed to give him their child. That she had tried to bring the child back, forbidden as it was. That she had failed at that too. That he had loved her all the same, without pity or ignorance. 

Izumi's heart broke again as she lay remembering. She turned to her side, pressing her face into the burlap that covered the top of her makeshift nest. She found the rough fabric a comfort. It grounded her. For all the pain she felt, it was less than it had been when it was fresh. Less than it had been during most of her drifting. As for the drifting - the compulsion to continue, the compulsion that had kept her putting one foot in front of another - had, without her realizing, shifted. She still felt the pulling in her gut. Before it was propulsion, driving her forward forward forward. It didn't matter where, so long as she moved, subconsciously knowing that if she stood still she'd crumble.

Now the pulling in her gut was magnetic, calling the very center of her. Beckoning. And as soon as she was aware of the shift, she knew exactly when it had happened. She thought now not of Sig, but of Armstrong. Of the General's hand curling around hers. She thought of the moment Olivier had pressed their hands into the mattress and how instinctively her body had reacted. 

Izumi had always been proud of her marriage to Sig. It had quietly signified her great capacity for love. The many roles she'd played in life - student, teacher, alchemist - had all balanced on her tough exterior. Izumi's marriage had been the admission of her need for other people. A need she'd been ignoring for more than a year. A need she'd convinced herself existed no longer. A need that had turned into a fear. And fear, into denial. 

The dam that held up a year's worth of need had been broken with the pressure of a hand on hers. The nakedness of her need fell upon her now in full, and the magnet inside of her, pulling, was insistent on the focus of that need. Izumi was no longer a tumbleweed. No longer aimless.

She stood, and began to walk. Izumi found her way, slowly but easily in the dark. A lodestone, magnetic, making its way north.


	8. Chapter 8

Armstrong was a solid sleeper and tonight had been no different. Still, she woke with a quiet start when the door to her room creaked open. At the soft sound, whoever it was in the doorway paused. No, not whoever. Even in the momentary stupor of awakening Armstrong knew there was only one person in Fort Briggs tonight who'd be coming into her room silently at this late hour. She stayed silent herself, laying without an indication of being awake, knowing Izumi had come to give her retribution. 

Izumi for her part, found herself suddenly wary. It had seemed both natural and necessary to come. Now that she was here, she had no idea what she was doing. The whine of the door had been quiet enough, but she'd be a fool to assume it wouldn't wake the general. She imagined Armstrong, across the darkness which seemed both vast and intimate, waiting.

Well, she was here. Izumi stepped into the darkness. Her thoughts were a mess. What was she doing here anyway? So what if she could no longer drown the urgency of need. The desire for companionship, for a body against hers, for understanding. There was no indication Armstrong wanted to give any of that to her. The general's earlier motivation had only been to goad her. As easily as the general had thrown her off balance, she'd just as smoothly dismissed Izumi as soon as that was done. 

Izumi's body had answered Armstrong's kiss, her pressure. But the general had been as collected as ever. For all that the unknown motivations and desires of her friend made things uncertain, Izumi found that she was drawn in more as she thought of the general's cool, controlled veneer. There was something compelling in not knowing. In wondering how to break through that exterior. If that was what Armstrong wanted, or if anything she could do would change things if it wasn't. Izumi idly wondered whether or not the general was awake after all. She had seen no shifting in the dim pile of sheets. She took another step towards the bed, the magnet in her gut pulling. 

Izumi was at the bedside before Armstrong spoke, blue eyes looking up from the bed, blue eyes piercing despite the darkness. "Well?"

In the time Izumi had spent dithering in the doorway, Armstrong had made a decision. Whatever plot the other woman had come up with, the best way to infuriate her would be to acquiesce easily. If she had wrongfooted Izumi earlier with her impulsiveness, the last thing Izumi would expect now was submission.

But Izumi had no response to the general's inquiry. Her retribution was not words, but reciprocity. She leaned over the side of the bed, one hand bracing against the bed frame, and pressed her lips to Armstrong's. 

Armstrong could hardly say she was surprised given her earlier actions, and yet she was. She had felt Izumi buck against her before, but assumed it was in protest. Of course, this kiss now didn't mean that wasn't true. Armstrong's actions earlier had been impulsive, unthinking, and weighed heavily on pulling the rug out from under her friend. Izumi would know those things. If Izumi had been surprised or enraged, she wouldn't have had cause to assume Armstrong was feeling anything different. No reason to assume Armstrong had learned anything about herself in the act of kissing Izumi.

But now Izumi was kissing her, and she was the one wrongfooted. 

Armstrong had begun to consider the possibility of kissing Izumi again, yes. But not this way - uncertain, with Izumi's kiss in return fueled by spite. Part of her still wanted to needle her friend. Wanted a reaction. And yes, she wanted to protect herself. So she did nothing. Armstrong let Izumi kiss her but was careful not to react. She lay in the bed still, cold. She removed herself. If Izumi was here for revenge, or only to get a rise then, well, she'd deal with her personal feelings on that matter without the other woman watching. And if, somehow - Olivier barely let herself consider the possibility - Izumi's wants were somehow more aligned with her own...well, in that case a little more fun could hardly hurt.

Izumi finally broke away. She had intended to rage at the general. To demand an explanation for earlier, or to force her to admit defeat. Defeat to what? Izumi didn't know. There was no logic to her plan. No plan at all, really. And as she glanced at the general's face, even the intention of forming a plan fell away.

Instead she found herself asking, "Was...was that alright?" Izumi was sure that Armstrong could hear her heart pounding in the silence that followed. Surely Armstrong could hear the blood thudding in her ears. Izumi regretted the question. Regretted the kiss, regretted the whole damn trip north. For the life of her, Izumi could not remember what had brought her back to the general's room. And then Olivier reach out a hand, pulled her back in, and the magnet in Izumi's gut found its way home.


	9. Chapter 9

Olivier wasn't sure how long she kissed Izumi the second time. It might have been a moment, it might have been the rest of the night. They both started shyly yet bullishly, pretending they were anything but vulnerable. And when each woman felt the other reciprocate they gave in to each other's need.

When it ended, Izumi lay curled in the bed and Armstrong turned to her. Softly, Olivier said simply "Yes, it was alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so this is the end...for now?


End file.
